Fighting Dragons With You
by givemekevinbacon
Summary: House and Cuddy are finally getting married. It only takes a four year-engagement, some meddling, bribery in the form of concert tickets, and a hint of spontaneity to get these two crazy kids down the aisle. Part of the Only Fools Rush In universe.


_A/N: So, as it turns out, I'm capable of writing a wedding fic that doesn't make me gag too much. Part of the Only Fools Rush In universe (shocking, right?). If you haven't read that story, you can still read this-just factor in a geographical relocation and pretend you're familiar with the two characters you don't recognize. Takes place about four years after the final chapter, so the events of the epilogue haven't happened yet. I wrote this as Sydney's (partypantscuddy) Christmas present, so you have her to thank. Happy holidays!_

* * *

"Mom, wake up." Lisa Cuddy reluctantly fluttered one eye open as she felt a tiny hand wrap around her hair and gently tug at it. "Mom, come _on_."

Cuddy opened both of her eyes, sighing as she met the mischievous grin that was plastered across her eight year old daughter's face. Rachel tugged at her hair once more.

"Rachel, what time is it?" she muttered.

"6:32," she answered promptly, smiling widely.

Cuddy nodded, murmuring to herself.

"And what day is it?" she asked calmly, trying not to let the slight irritation she was feeling show.

"Saturday," said Rachel meekly. "But I woke up and I can't go back to sleep and Lady is missing and House hid my Harry Potter book—"

Cuddy pressed a finger to her daughter's lips, quieting her. She let out a slight laugh.

"We'll deal with Lady and your Harry Potter book in a minute," she comforted. Cuddy turned her head to the side, rolling her eyes as House immediately started to feign sleep—he even went as far to let out a few snores. Rachel giggled as House's "snores" intensified.

Cuddy sighed and stretched her arm out, her cheeks reddening as she remembered she wasn't wearing a shirt. "Rachel, hand Mommy her sweatshirt," she ordered casually.

Rachel tilted her head to the side. "Why did you take your shirt off while you were sleeping? Did you get hot?" she asked.

Cuddy paused, her lips slightly parted as her eyes grew wider—she wasn't exactly interested in having this particular conversation with her eight-year old daughter at 6:30 in the morning.

"Why don't you go pick out something for breakfast, okay?" she suggested.

Forgoing his feigned sleep, House smirked from his side of the bed, letting out a slight laugh. It took all of Cuddy's willpower not to kick him right out of the bed.

Rachel nodded excitedly before skipping out of their bedroom and darting towards the kitchen. Cuddy heard the opening of cabinets and banging of pots and pans as her daughter explored the kitchen down the hall. Sighing, she let out a deep breath and turned towards House, who opened his eyes towards her.

She glared at him.

"Thanks for your help," she murmured, rolling her eyes as she let her head fall back against the pillow.

He smirked and extended his arm over her pillow. Smiling, she sighed and curled into him.

"You know I don't parent before eleven in the morning," he said.

"Oh right, how could I forget?" she murmured, forcing herself not to close her eyes and fall back asleep. "I should probably go out there before she gets hurt. Or gets stuck in that cabinet again."

He smirked fondly. Rachel's cabinet adventures were a direct result of a bet gone wrong between Joey and himself.

She pressed a kiss to his clavicle before sitting up, folding her legs underneath her as she gave him a quizzical look. "Wait, where did you put her Harry Potter book?"

"In the neighbor's mailbox," he said obviously.

Cuddy let out a slight laugh and shook her head.

"Naturally."

She leaned over and kissed him once more on the lips, smiling down at him before saying: "If you're not up in one hour I'm telling her that we're going to Harry Potter World for her birthday this year."

He wrapped his arm around her and narrowed his eyes, pulling her closer to him.

"You wouldn't subject yourself to that," he accused, tilting his head to the side.

"Maybe not. But I know for a fact you're not willing to chance it."

She shrugged innocently and kissed him once more, gently stroking his cheek with her hand. Reluctantly, she pulled away and got out of bed, slipping on a pair of leggings and her engagement ring before walking out the door.

* * *

Joey slid two tickets towards Amelia, who was sitting at the bar nursing a Michelob Ultra. It was only 12:30 in the afternoon, but her father had been calling her non-stop and her dissertation was quickly becoming the bane of her existence, and what the hell—there were only 95 calories in a Mich Ultra, anyway.

She smiled widely as she took the two tickets in her hands.

"What the hell are these?" she asked, even though she knew exactly what they were.

Joey shrugged.

"I heard you liked the Arctic Monkeys," he said simply.

Amelia shrieked and jumped out of her seat, the heels of her boots clicking across the wooden floor as she scurried over to the other side of the bar. She threw her arms around Joey, who enveloped her into a hug and gently lifted her off the floor.

"I thought you said you couldn't get tickets," she prompted—she'd been depressed for three days when he'd told her the show was sold out.

He shrugged.

"Turns out I know a guy who could pull some strings. Wanted to surprise you."

She smiled, her arms still wrapped around his neck. She pressed her lips to his.

"I love you. I want to marry you and have five hundred babies with you."

House groaned, rolling his eyes as he walked into the bar.

"Careful," he advised. "He might actually take you up on that offer."

Amelia smirked as she took another sip of her beer.

"Says the man who got engaged in _Paris_," she joked. "Of all the places in the world. Who knew Gregory House was so cliché?" she asked, turning her head towards Joey, who was stifling a laugh.

"Yeah, a mangled leg, a drug addiction, and two stints in jail—I'm really living the American Dream here."

Joey chuckled.

"Beer?" he asked

House nodded as he made his way over to the bar. He sat down next to Amelia, who eyed him quizzically.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" she asked. "Did Lisa kick you out?" She lowered her voice, narrowing her eyes at him. "Did you do something stupid?"

"You know, I just couldn't stay away from your joyful personality," he retorted. He reached out to grab the beer that Joey was handing him. "I can really see what you see in her," he added sarcastically.

Amelia shoved him playfully. "You know you would be completely lost without me," she added, raising her eyebrows and looking back and forth between them.

They shrugged and nodded, silently confirming her assertion.

"Speaking of which," she began, sliding her beer to the side and turning towards House. "When are you getting married?" she asked bluntly.

He rolled his eyes.

"I think you need to look up the phrase "speaking of which," considering it has absolutely nothing to do with what we were talking about. You can read, right?"

Amelia glared at him.

"Funny," she retorted primly. "You got engaged almost four years ago, and I don't know, I just feel bad for Lisa. I mean, her wedding has practically planned itself—she's got the guy, the ring, the dress, her favorite flowers are peonies and she likes things that sparkle, so that takes care of the decorations—"

"Shouldn't you be having this conversation with her?" House interrupted, taking a sip of his beer and glaring at her.

Joey chuckled and turned towards Amelia.

"Don't get involved, babe. They'll get married when they're ready," he explained.

"Listen to your boyfriend," House ordered. "Or better yet, take your own advice. Make an honest woman out of Joey over here."

Amelia rolled her eyes.

"I'm just saying, if you don't do it soon, some people might start to think that it's never going to happen…" she said, her voice trailing. Her eyes went wide and she reached for her beer, desperately looking for something to do.

Joey eyed her as she brought it to her lips, quieting herself. House paused.

"Amelia, if you know something—"

"I don't know anything," she lied. "Just making casual conversation."

"She said something to you, didn't she?" goaded House, turning towards her.

Amelia shook her head innocently.

"She didn't. And even if she did, I would never betray her trust by telling you what she told me in drunken confidence."

"You're a terrible liar," House pointed out. "Just tell me what she said. Otherwise I'll be forced to tell her that you were the one who invited her mother to go dress shopping."

Amelia gasped. "But that was Julia!" she stammered.

House shrugged. "I know. But unlike you, I know how to lie."

Joey groaned.

"Dude, you can't blackmail my girlfriend right in front of me," he said. "And you," he began, pointing his finger at Amelia, who was nervously twirling a lock of hair around her finger, "shouldn't get involved in other people's relationships if you're not prepared to face both parties."

She shook her head.

"I'm still not saying a word," she informed them, lifting her eyebrows and dramatically pressing a finger to her lips.

House and Joey exchanged knowing glances, nodding at each other. Amelia furrowed her brow, confused—and before she could protest, Joey had snatched the tickets from her hands.

"Hey!" she hissed, pouting. "You gave those to me," she reminded him, folding her arms over her chest.

"No, I bought them for _us_. You can have yours when you cooperate."

Amelia sighed, biting down on her lower lip as she darted her eyes back and for the between the two.

"You're asking me to choose between my best friend and Alex Turner," she said, annoyed. "This isn't fair."

House glared at her.

"Life isn't fair. You'll get used to it. Now spill," he added.

Amelia twirled her hair nervously.

"Fine," she stammered out. "But not because I desperately want to see the Arctic Monkeys."

House smirked in disbelief. Amelia rolled her eyes.

"Okay, that has a little bit to do with it—but it's mainly because I desperately want the two of you to get married."

House rolled his eyes.

"Spit it out," he ordered.

Amelia took a deep breath. "She's worried that you're scared of committing to her and the only reason you proposed in the first place was because you thought it was the only way to win her back and make things right again," she rambled, imitating Cuddy's aforementioned drunken state. "And it's not a question of if you love her, because you obviously do—it's a question of if you love her enough."

House sighed and took another sip of his beer, draining it. He pushed it aside and stepped off of the barstool.

"Gotta go," he said simply.

Amelia eyed him quizzically, watching as he walked towards the door. "Where are you going?" she called out. He didn't answer. She turned towards Joey, confused. "Where is he going?"

Joey shrugged.

"My guess? To either pack his bags or get hitched."

* * *

Rachel Cuddy tugged on her mother's hand as they walked inside, her blue eyes wide and a big smile on her face.

"Mommy, did you know that Stegosauruses had a brain the size of a walnut?"

Cuddy laughed as they walked inside. She threw her keys in the tray on the table and placed their shopping bags on the floor.

"I didn't know that," she answered. "See, you're already getting smarter than me," she joked.

Rachel shook her head.

"House said I won't be smarter than you until I realize that I can't control everything in the world and learn how to spell 'abscess' correctly," she said, seeming to repeat it robotically. She tugged on her mother's hand again. "He said you always leave out the first 's'," she whispered, as if it were some secret she wasn't supposed to share.

Cuddy shook her head and stifled a laugh—he'd always made fun of her inability to spell that word correctly. He'd even jokingly tried to get her fired over it once.

"Well I guess you'll just have to work really hard on those two things," Cuddy joked. "Speaking of House," she murmured, her voice trailing as she looked around the house. She started to twist the ring on her finger. "Why don't you go see if you can find him while I put our stuff away."

Rachel nodded excitedly as she skipped down the hallway.

Cuddy sighed, drumming her fingers on the counter as she peeked out the window to the back of the driveway—his bike was gone, so she doubted he was here. She fiddled with the ring on her finger once more, trying not to focus on the thoughts that were plaguing the back of her mind.

"I can't find him, Mom!" Rachel called from the other side of the house. "Do you know where he is?"

Cuddy bit down on her bottom lip. She took a deep breath.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon, sweetie. Do you want some lunch? It's almost two."

Rachel skipped back into the kitchen, a book tucked neatly under her arm. She gave Cuddy a pleading smile.

"Can I read Harry Potter while I eat?" she asked. Cuddy sighed, raising her eyebrows at her daughter. "Please?" she pleaded. "Harry is about to battle the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets and rescue Ginny."

Not really understanding a word of what her daughter was saying, Cuddy nodded, shaking her head as Rachel hugged the book tightly and walked over to the kitchen table.

Cuddy fixed two sandwiches and cut up an apple for each of them. She placed their lunch on the kitchen table and flipped through a magazine while she ate. Occasionally, she lifted her eyes over to Rachel, who was completely immersed in her book—Cuddy would have to clear her throat every five minutes to remind Rachel to take a bite of something.

She was halfway done with her sandwich and a quarter of the way through one of Amelia's abandoned issues of Vogue when she heard the door open.

She breathed a sigh of relief, assuming it was House.

"We're in here," Cuddy yelled. "Not that you've bothered to return any of my phone calls today," she muttered under her breath.

"House, get in here!" said Rachel excitedly. "You're not going to believe who Tom Riddle is!"

Cuddy furrowed her brow when she heard the sound of heels clicking on the floor.

"Hey kids," Amelia greeted, tossing her hair over her shoulders. "Sorry, I'm not House," she said, looking over at Cuddy. "And I already know who Tom Riddle is," she reminded Rachel.

"What are you doing here?" Cuddy asked. She pushed her plate to the side and closed the magazine. She looked Amelia up and down. "And why are you so dressed up? Is that the Valentino I gave you last year?"

Amelia rolled her eyes. "You are so full of questions today," she pointed out. She directed her attention towards Rachel. "Rach, you know that blue dress with the lace at the top that I bought you last week?"

Rachel tilted her head to the side, presumably trying to remember the dress Amelia was describing. Finally, she nodded confidently.

"I need you to go put it on, okay?"

Rachel shrugged and closed her book before hopping out of her chair—she was used to Amelia randomly showing up and whisking her away.

"Where are you guys going?" Cuddy asked, thinking nothing of Amelia's sudden appearance. "Oh! Are you taking her to that place that serves nothing but tea and those fancy little sandwiches? Because I know I said that was a little too southern for my taste, but I have no idea where House is and it might be fun to get dressed up and look like we walked right out of a catalogue."

Amelia laughed, looking down at her dress. Blue flowers were strewn about the tight, off-the-shoulder white dress, and she'd paired it with her fuchsia Manolo Blahniks. Her hair hung in loose waves.

She lifted her heels up and scrunched up her face, placing her hand on her hip. "I am kind of giving off that "Ladies Who Lunch" vibe, aren't I?"

Cuddy nodded, laughing to herself.

"But we're not going to tea—although thank you for that _fabulous_ suggestion, even though you'll be kicking yourself three months from now when I drag you to it."

Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"Then where are you going? And why does Rachel have to put on that blue dress?"

"Because we need to match," said Amelia simply.

Cuddy eyed her suspiciously. She fiddled with the ring on her finger.

"Why?" she asked tentatively.

Amelia smiled widely.

"Because you're getting married."

* * *

"There she is," said House, greeting her as she walked into the bar. Amelia and Rachel followed quickly behind her.

"House," she began, unimpressed. She folded her arms over her chest as she looked around. "What the hell is going on?"

"Mommy, don't say hell," Rachel whispered.

House sighed, defeated. He looked over at Amelia. "I thought you told her."

"I did," Amelia defended. "But for some strange reason, she wanted to hear it from you. Can't imagine why," she added.

"If you think I'm getting married in a _bar_ you have some _serious_ mental issues," said Cuddy primly. Joey scoffed in the corner. "No offense," she added guiltily.

"None taken," said Joey, amused.

House groaned. "Come with me," he ordered, motioning for Cuddy to follow him to the back room. She rolled her eyes.

Cuddy looked over at Amelia, who was urging her to follow him. Cuddy sighed and begrudgingly followed. She gently shut the door and looked at him seriously.

"House, what is this about?" she asked gently. "Are you trying to get out of this by forcing me to make snap decisions? Because it would save me a lot of pain and energy if you just bowed out now," she said sadly.

Absentmindedly, she started to twist the ring on her finger. He looked at her adoringly.

"I want to marry you, Cuddy," he said honestly.

She sighed, her shoulders dropping. "I know you say that, but do you really mean it? It's been so long since we got engaged, and I know you love me, but I just—"

He kissed her, cutting her off.

"Look, we can take another six months to plan a wedding that's only going to stress you out, or we can just do it now."

"You don't spontaneously get married because it's easier than planning a wedding, House. That's not—that's not how it's supposed to work. What do you suggest we do, go to the courthouse?" she asked, disappointed.

He scoffed and pulled something out of his pocket.

"You know I am way more creative than that," he said.

She nodded shrugging. "What's in your hand?" she asked, curious. A slight smile escaped her lips.

He opened his hand. He was holding two silver ring settings, outlined with crystals. Cuddy looked down at her engagement ring—it would fit perfectly.

"I bought it two and a half years ago," he admitted. "Look, I know we've been testing the waters for the last few years, but I think it's time we just jump in. Cliché intended," he added knowing he sounded like a sap.

She smiled, moved.

"I brought my dress with me," she admitted meekly, her eyes fluttering. Her brow furrowed. "But what about my mother? Julia? We'll never hear the end of it if we get married without them here."

House nodded.

"They're on the way," he said. "Don't worry, they'll be here in plenty of time."

Cuddy let out a slight laugh. "I thought the point of all this was to be spontaneous and not let anything slow us down."

He shrugged. "I factored in the hour that it will take you to put your face on," he said.

She shoved him playfully and wrapped an arm around his neck. She looked up at him.

"You're sure you want to do this?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he said, spitting back the words she'd told him when he asked her to marry him over four years ago.

She laughed, taking his hand.

"Then let's go."

* * *

They were on the National Mall, surrounded by onlookers and participators. Cuddy sipped on a glass of champagne as she took in her surroundings. There were hundreds of flowers, four different types of bands, countless tuxedo options, and a list of over a hundred different locations. She smiled, looking over at House.

"What is going on?" she asked, laughing as she gripped his hand tighter. "How did you even do all of this?"

"We're planning our wedding," he said obviously. "Come on, we don't have much time left," he urged.

He led her to the area with the flowers.

"Pick," he ordered gently.

Laughing, she immediately reached for the bouquet of pink peonies, just like he knew she would. She grabbed two white bouquets for Rachel and Amelia.

She nixed the stringed quartet instantly. "Ruthless," House had remarked. And just like he knew she would, she settled on the Mariachi band.

Choosing a tuxedo took longer than he anticipated—he finally forced her to just close her eyes and point to one. And just like she knew he would, he guided her hand to the one he wanted. "How very James Bond-esque," she'd observed.

The location was next. She read over the list twice, immediately crossing off churches or temples that he'd put on as a courtesy to her. Finally she narrowed it down to one.

"Make a decision?"

She nodded, turning her head in the opposite direction of where they were standing. The sun would be setting by the time they arrived.

"I'm assuming I'm also supposed to choose between those two limos?" she prompted, pointing to the white and black cars parked in the distance.

He nodded.

"You take the black and I'll take the white," she said, her eyes flickering. "You'll see where we end up," she teased. She took his hand and led him away. "Besides, the groom isn't supposed to see the bride right before the wedding, anyway."

And he smiled, because he certainly wasn't expecting that.

They got in their individual limos and changed into their wedding attire, each secretly wishing that the other was there to sneak stolen kisses betwixt the removal and replacement of clothing.

Somehow, Cuddy had managed to put on her dress and pin back a section of her hair without any trouble. She expertly placed the birdcage veil on her head—she'd secretly been practicing during nights she couldn't sleep. She checked her makeup and fluffed her curls using the camera on her iPhone as a mirror. Lastly, she took a deep breath and texted Amelia the destination of the wedding.

They arrived at the Tidal Basin when the sun was just about to set. The Cherry Blossoms bloomed in the distance, and tourists lingered as they saw two limos pull up, a brunette in a vintage-draped dress emerging from one and a middle-aged man with piercing blue-eyes and a limp emerging from the other.

Cuddy smoothed her dress down as she exited the car. The draped material was light on the skin that was growing sticky from the summer air, and she smiled as she looked over at House, who was leaning against the black limo with his bow tie looped undone around his neck.

He shrugged.

"Turns out I have no idea how to tie a bow tie," he admitted. "Skippy over here offered, but I turned him down. Wanted you to get the real me," he joked.

She laughed.

"Lucky for you, I like you all scruffy and disheveled." He smirked, and she took his hand. "I can take the good with the bad," she reassured, the double meaning of her words not lost on either one of them.

She squeezed his hand.

"Then let's go get hitched, woman."

They made the short walk to the edge of the Tidal Basin hand in hand. The sunlight streamed through the pillars of the Jefferson Memorial, and onlookers settled by the tress in the distance and paddleboats paused to watch in silence.

House and Cuddy were met by a giddy Amelia, who hugged them both simultaneously and whispered words of encouragement and self-congratulations on their behalf—in her eyes, she was practically responsible for this entire thing. Joey finally managed to pull her away, reminding her that she was going to ruin Cuddy's hair if she didn't let go soon. Cuddy looked down the makeshift aisle that Amelia had created, spotting Julia in a simple navy dress holding the hand of a twirling eight-year old girl with a bright pink bow in her hair. Folding chairs were set up at the end, and her mother sat in the one closest to the aisle. Cuddy waved, and she thought her heart might stop when Rachel's face lit up with excitement.

"I guess it's time we get this show on the road," said Amelia, clapping her hands together. "House, you go down and stand across from Julia and Rachel. We don't have much standing room, so once Lisa gets there we're all going to sit to give the two of you and the Minister—who is apparently Australian—some space. I'm going to follow House and try not to trip in the impossibly high heels that I'm wearing, and then Joey is going to walk you down the aisle."

Cuddy blushed. "Oh, you don't have to—"

Joey shrugged and extended his arm towards her. "I want to," he said.

She nodded, and looked over at House. "See you down there?"

House looked back towards the limo. "You know, I was thinking we could just—"

"House," she said softly. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "The good with the bad," she reminded him.

He nodded and squeezed her hand before walking down the aisle, laughing at the sound of the mariachi band attempting a song that supposedly resembled the wedding march. Once House made it down the aisle, Cuddy looped her arm around Joey's and took a deep breath.

"I have three important questions for you," Joey murmured as he guided her down the white-stone aisle. "Now, I'm just going to warn you: if you answer no to any of these, I'm going to feel obligated to turn around. And then Amelia will be pissed, and I'll have even _less_ of a chance convincing her to marry me than I do right now. So think carefully, and lie, if necessary." She let out a slight laugh, encouraging him to continue. "Do you trust him to drive your car while you're asleep, can you stand the smell of him on your clothes, and can he make you a drink that's just strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you pass out after three sips?"

Cuddy let out another laugh. They'd reached the end of the aisle, and she turned towards Joey and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You've got a bigger chance with Amelia than you think you do," she whispered.

She squeezed his elbow and walked towards House, pausing to kiss Julia on the cheek and give Rachel a hug. And when she saw that Chase was administrating their wedding, she smiled, because she really wasn't all that surprised.

The ceremony was quick and to the point; Chase made a short greeting and then attempted to spout off some profound quotes about love and any scripture that he could possibly remember, but Cuddy quickly cut him off.

"Chase, that's all very sweet but it's taken a _long_ time to get the two of us up here, and I'd like to get this done before someone dies of a heat stroke."

Chase nodded, and a few laughs erupted from the small audience.

"Okay then," he said simply. "Vows?" he prompted, hoping they'd elected to write their own so he wouldn't have to suffer through reciting traditional ones.

Cuddy pulled a piece of paper from her bra, a laugh escaping her lips as House gave her a knowing look. She'd written down some things on a napkin on the way over, and even though she'd been forced to use lip-liner as a pen and her hand was shaking the entire time, the sentiment was still there. Lucky for her, House had done the same—except he'd used a real pen and scribbled it on a prescription pad, because pants had the added benefit of having pockets where one could keep such items.

House and Cuddy looked up at each other and shrugged. They laughed and exchanged their pieces of paper. Cuddy smiled as she read the silly things, blushed as she read the dirty promises, and tried not to cry as he slipped in heartfelt words. House's expression never changed as he read, but she saw him lift his eyes towards her once he was done, and she knew he'd finally heard what she'd been trying to tell him for years.

"Wait," Arlene called from the audience. "You're not going to read them aloud?" she asked, outraged.

"No," Cuddy answered simply, taking House's hand in hers. He laced his fingers with hers and squeezed her hand. "Our vows aren't about you, Mom. We're the only ones who need to hear them."

And after a few moments of grumbles in the audience, declaration of "I dos," and a slightly inappropriate kiss, Gregory House and Lisa Cuddy were pronounced husband and wife. And in a slightly weird twist of fate, neither one of them were surprised by just how right it felt.

* * *

_Thirteen Years Later_

Twenty-One year old Rachel Cuddy walked up to the front of the bar, a glass of champagne in her hand and a nervous smile on her face. She cleared her throat and pressed down on the piano keys, suddenly realizing she'd forgotten to grab a spoon to clink against her class. She looked out at the crowd of people, finding her mom and House huddled together in the corner. Rachel smiled as she saw House grab her mom's hand.

"First of all, I'd like to thank everyone for coming. I know it seems odd to throw a party for a thirteenth wedding anniversary, but when you consider the people we're all here to celebrate, it somehow fits," she joked, pausing as the crowd joined in on her laughter.

Towards the back of the bar, Cuddy rolled her eyes and House twisted his mouth a little, trying not to smile.

"Now, I don't know if you all know this, but House isn't exactly one for words." More laughter began as Rachel continued. "In fact, they exchanged their vows in pure silence. And as far as I can tell, they've kept whatever secret promises they scribbled on to tattered pieces of paper all those years ago." Faces softened and shoulders dropped in adoration.

"With that said, my parents have always been talked _about_. And I never really figured out why—maybe it's House's misanthropic disposition and hilarious tendencies, or my mom's ability to exude a certain level of grace that's outlined in just the right amount of snarky bitch fluff." The crowd laughed again, and Cuddy sighed, embarrassed. House pressed a kiss to her forehead, laughing to himself.

"But I do know this: throughout my entire life, I've heard people comment about everything my parents have gone through. The demons they've faced, the dragons they've conquered, the life that they've built for themselves, and the life that they've given me."

Cuddy lifted a hand to her face, choking back tears. Rachel took a deep breath, choking back tears of her own as she met her mother's gaze.

"I've heard stories of the estranged House and Cuddy, experienced first-hand the bickering House and Cuddy, and witnessed the disgustingly in love House and Cuddy. But what most people don't realize is that I've had a front row-seat to their love story."

People sighed in awe, turning around to look at the couple huddled in the corner. Most couldn't see the loving hand House had placed on the small of Cuddy's back.

"And the dragons we've fought have been a bit different. House checked for monsters under my bed and was constantly reassuring me that Lord Voldemort wasn't _actually_ real. We sailed Pirate-ridden seas and roamed the hills of Middle Earth. He helped me navigate a chess board and gave me a world-class Woody Allen education."

House ran a hand through his hair, slightly embarrassed. Rachel laughed, darting her eyes towards him. She smiled when he met her gaze.

"My mom was there for me when I didn't even know I needed her—she taught me to see the best in people and open my eyes up to the entire world. She bought me sketchbooks and novels, even though it killed her that I had absolutely no desire to go to medical school." The crowd laughed again, and Cuddy shook her head, scoffing. " She got me through my first heartbreak, encouraged me to follow my dreams, and never seemed to yell at me when I stole her shoes."

Rachel lifted her glass up, surveying the crowd. Joey and Amelia were lingering next to House and Cuddy, and Rachel fixed her eyes on the four people she'd had the privilege of growing up with.

"So I'd like to make a toast to Mom and Dad—even though House _hates _it when I call him that," she added, laughing through her tears. "To a love that is constantly being challenged but never seems to fade. A love I can't even begin to understand, but would never dare to question."

Rachel locked eyes with House and Cuddy. "And if nothing else, just know that I've had the time of my life fighting dragons with you."

* * *

_So not exactly a holiday themed story, but hopefully it did the trick! Merry Christmas :)_

_-Alison_


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